


Survival

by God1643



Category: The Chronicles Of Darkness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 16:44:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3903499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God1643/pseuds/God1643





	Survival

I awoke, grogginess cloaked my vision, and I stumbled to my feet. “Ow!” I exclaimed, for a steel sword had pricked my side, causing a steady, slow flow of crimson from my elbow. “What in the world?” I asked myself, gripping the handle of the blade, recognition flashing in my eyes, as I stared at the bruised nose and dilated eyes staring back at me in the reflection of the polished blade. I let my arm drop, but saw a flash of yellow on my blue ragged t-shirt. I pulled the tiny sticky note from my chest pocket, and read it to myself “If you make it out of the forest alive you may return home.” At that point I became aware of my surroundings, just as a streak of orange flew across my view. A growl emerged from the wooded area to my left, and as it happened a monkey screeched, throwing a dense stone, sending me flying backwards flat onto my back. I clambered to my feet, swinging the sword wildly as the beast leaped out of the bushes, connecting with my body, it’s claws swiping my face. I swung wildly, connecting the sword with the enormous beast’s gut, it howling in anger, for it only made it angry, but did no real, permanent or noticeable damage. When I did manage to kill it, I skinned and gutted the beast, letting the blood drain into a simple collection trough fashioned from willow bark, then interwoven with willow bark fibers twirled together to form a simple, thin cord. I used some small pieces of driftwood from the river nearby to make a scrappy blaze within a pit surrounded by smooth stones from the river-bed. I roasted the tiger’s guts over the flame, thinking to myself that this will be the first exotic meat steak I’ve ever had. The sound of meat tearing beneath my eyes shook me out of my adrenaline-fueled fury daze and then the taste hit me, a bland, bitter-sweet tangle of meat and tendons. I opened my journal to the page with the hand-written list of needed things:

  1. Water

  2. Food

  3. Shelter

  4. Fire

  5. Sleep

  6. Animal Prevention

  7. Shoes

  8. Medicinal Supplies

  9. Miscellaneous Items




I mulled over the list thinking of where I could find/make the items I needed. The bandages could be made out of yew leaves linked together after water treatment with cord at either end of the leaf. The fire could be made out of just normal deadwood and the stems from the yew leaves. Birch bark could be used for fish hooks and willow bark rope for fishing line.  Oak branches for arrows and flint shards for arrowheads, even maple bark coated in maple sap works as natural fly-paper.  More troughs could be made as rainwater collection cups, of a sort.  Two yew pads could be coated in sap and stuck to the ground so when you pulled them up, and stuck them together, the grass forms a natural cushion, like a natural-ish bedroll. The same technique could be used on a smaller scale to make the soles of a shoe so there would be no danger in traversing rough terrain.  The tiger pelt could be used for a blanket and a hide jacket with fur insulation.  More yew pads could be made into a tepee, of sorts, and the long pine branches could be used as the support poles for the tepee.  I checked each one off, gradually letting a smile creep onto my face.  I heard a twig snap behind me, I spun, nocking a homemade arrow and letting it fly, it collided with a tree, right next to the ear of a girl, her eyes as wide as saucers. The whites of her eyes were enormous, two cobalt gems sunk deep into the setting formed by her vibrant alabaster basins. I dropped the bow and raised my eyebrows immediately, in concern, obviously. I walked to the girl with my hands in an “I Surrender” gesture. I offered her some food, in the form of a tiger steak, and she wolfed it down, ridiculously fast, almost as if she had been out here for… well as long as it takes to become a feral human. As she sat on the second stump near my fire, I offered a blanket, and she draped it over her shoulders. I handed her another steak, and she wolfed it down equally as fast, if not as even faster than the last one. I offered her another cup of the “Vitamin Mixture” that was actually blood, but it wasn’t technically a lie calling it that, after all, blood does have the highest concentrations of Vitamin A and B than any other body part in most animals. She drank, a little too quickly, as it turned out, as she spewed the carmine liquid back up. “It can be a little hard to take the taste at first. Try small sips, gulps will make you vomit again.” I said, tending to the fire, burning the tips of the new oak arrows from the branches of her shelter.

“Thanks for the shelter.” She said sheepishly, and then turned her eyes back to the fire from mine, but I continued to look into hers.

“I apologize for the arrow.” I said, finding a sudden interest in my shoes.  “Shoes!” I exclaimed, then pointed to her feet, and asked “I can make you a pair of shoes, do you want some?” She nodded, and said “I would also like to learn to make some of these things.” She gestured around, pointing at all the various survival supplies littered around the camp. “Sure thing, as long as we do it tomorrow. I haven’t slept since my arrival.” She nodded. She laid down, and began to whistle absentmindedly, a beautiful tune emerged from her ruby-red lips. A crow lighted down on the trunk of the shelter that she lay in. I knocked on the trunk, ignoring the crow, and popped my head through the leaf covers, and asked: “I’m gonna go for a midnight hunt, you up for an early lesson?” We stalked the bushes, I pointed out the various animal sign, and told the girl what animal it corresponded to. “What do want to hunt now, Rabbits will be active about now, so will Elk, and so will Wolves. But remember, if you see a wolf it is most likely not lone, and it should not be attacked.” She nodded, and put two fingers to her lips, and blew, a sharp whistle came out. A grey mass emerged from the woods, growling and snarling, then it came to the side of the strange girl, who I still did not know the name of.  “This is Acadia, my wolf. She is how I have made it this far in my quest for survival.” She said casually. I stared dumbfounded, then just nodded, understanding. I lowered myself to the wolf’s height, and bared my teeth, then looked up, the gesture for acceptance, and she sniffed my teeth, the sign for returning the acceptance. “You speak wolf?” The girl asked, and I nodded. “So you’re Wolf Clan, or are you of the White Wolves?” She asked curiously. “I am of no clan.” I said. I caught a twig snapping on the edge of my hearing, I spun and tossed my spear over her shoulder. She shrieked, and I walked behind her as if nothing had happened. I picked up the rabbit and took it back to camp, clipping the left back foot to the yew-fiber rope. “Not-so-lucky rabbit’s foot.” I joked. She chuckled nervously, and said “How did you know that the rabbit was in the brush?” “The twig under her right-front paw snapped under her weight. I spun, tossed the spear, and now we have dinner, and your shoes." 


End file.
